Of Wolf and Man
by Phoenix-Flame4
Summary: Eventual HPSS- There's been a horrible accident and Harry's been attacked by a werewolf. Now a werewolf himself, he has to turn to Snape to save both himself and others from himself.
1. Midnight Stroll

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! P And the title belongs to one of Metallica's songs.  
  
Notes: It's Harry's 7th year and Voldemort is dead because he'd just get in the way. Behold the author's power! There may be some OotP spoilers, so just be on guard. Annnnd... um.... oh yeah, eventual slash. R/R if you want more. ^_^  
  
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Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The Dark Forest was aptly named, for in the dead of night, not even the full moon overhead gave much illumination to the forest floor. It was difficult to tell how anything could move about in this near blackness without a lamp or lantern, but they did. One could hear them as they scurried around on their night's business. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.  
  
Harry eyed the forest askance and continued on, walking across the school grounds on this balmy October night. He wrapped the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he went, keeping it on until he was sure no one form the castle could see him if he took it off.  
  
Voldemort was gone, and the Death Eaters were either captured, dead, or chased into hiding. The wizarding world was once again safe, but Harry was restless. He knew he should be proud, for he had sent the Dark Lord to his final resting place, and was an international hero for it. But something was missing, and he didn't want the fame. He had never wanted the fame. Some thought he did, thought he loved the attention, but he would as soon be a normal kid.  
  
Harry continued his stroll through the night, just to get out and away from others. He needed some time to himself, to think. The cool, crisp air cleared his head, and the silver moon overhead gleamed like a polished Sickle, illuminating his way.  
  
Lost in his own thoughts, Harry didn't hear the approach at first. He didn't hear the heavy, excited breathing, or the stealthy footfalls of a predator. He was unaware of the blaring gaze of two shining eyes watching him, even as he wore the Invisibility Cloak. It never occurred to him that he could be found by his scent alone.  
  
Harry whirled around, gripping the cloak tighter as he heard something running at him. In the milky moonlight, he thought at first that it was a large, wild-eyed dog approaching him at full gallop. But then he saw the lean shape and large fangs and realized it was a very large wolf.  
  
Except wolves didn't live in the Dark Forest.  
  
But werewolves did.  
  
Harry realized his mistake of coming out here with a full moon too late and let the Invisibility Cloak slip as he reached for his wand. He got a hand on it, but the lycanthrope hit him before he was able to draw it and he went down in a tangle of limbs and flashing teeth. Harry fended off the snapping jaws of the monster while he struggled for to pull his wand, but it was stuck in his robes.  
  
The werewolf's amber eyes almost glowed with excitement as it assaulted the boy. Harry kicked it in the gut and the werewolf fell back with a yelp of pain. Harry scooted backward and tried to regain his feet, but they didn't seem to want to work. The wand was still stuck. He finally managed to stand as the lycanthrope leapt for him again.  
  
Harry kicked out, hitting it in the face and began to run while it shook it's long muzzle. He gave up on the wand, and let the cloak lay where it had fallen as he tore for the safety of the castle. He could hear the heavy tread of the werewolf behind him and he increased his speed. He was about halfway to the school when he was knocked down again with the beast on his back, nails scratching his back bloody.  
  
He let out a ragged scream of terror, that quickly changed to pain as he felt sharp teeth in powerful jaws clamp onto his shoulder.  
  
The doors to the school opened and three figures came running out. Harry couldn't see who, but he thought he saw Dumbledore's long silver beard among them. A spell and a flash and the werewolf cried out and ran off, back to the forest. Harry lay on the ground, exhausted and shivering in pain.  
  
He dimly registered the three people running to his side as the world tilted and he blacked out.  
  
***  
  
Harry slowly drifted to consciousness and opened his eyes. He recognized the ceiling above him, having been under it many times before. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked around the infirmary. He was the only one occupying a bed, and his shoulder had been wrapped and treated. There were slants of sunlight streaming in from the windows and Harry guessed it was dawn.  
  
Madam Pomfrey approached him and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I see you're awake, Mr. Potter," she said briskly. "Lie back down and tell me how you're feeling." Harry obediently lay back and continued to watch her as she unstoppered a flask of something.  
  
"Like I've just gone through a round with the Whomping Willow," he replied truthfully. He felt awful. His shoulder throbbed.  
  
"Good. That means it's healing. Drink this." She held out a cup filled with the liquid in the flask and Harry took it. He gave it a preliminary sniff and winced. It smelled horrible, which meant it would taste worse. But judging by the look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes, it was the lesser of two possible evils. Harry held his nose and swigged it down. "Good. Now I want you to lay back and rest. The wounds on your back have already healed, but your shoulder was much worse, so it take the rest of the morning."  
  
"Only the rest of the morning?" Harry gasped. "After it used my shoulder as a chew toy?"  
  
"It's one of the abilities of being a werewolf," she told him in an oddly soft and sad voice. Then it hit him like a punch in the gut. He had been bitten by a werewolf. He was a werewolf now, too. Harry was glad he was lying down already, because he might have fainted otherwise. Madam Pomfrey left him as Harry lay there and considered his predicament.  
  
He was a werewolf. He was a monster now, feared by many and liked by none. Every full moon he would transform, and he would rampage through the school and grounds attacking people. He cringed at the thought of what the Daily Prophet would have to say about this. And the Slytherins. Suddenly his life last night didn't seem so bad.  
  
Harry was so buried in these dismal thoughts that he was surprised when someone sat on the edge of his bed again. He worked himself back up on his elbow and looked at this newest visitor.  
  
Remus Lupin smiled a faint, sad smile at Harry. "Hello, Harry. Dumbledore has asked me to come and talk to you."  
  
"Then he's told you," Harry stated. His mouth felt dry.  
  
"Yes," Lupin said with a sigh. "I'm very sorry Harry. It is a terrible thing. We didn't even know there was a werewolf in this vicinity. It must have been living in Hogsmeade, going into the Dark Forest during the full moon." He ran a hand through his graying hair. "What were you doing so close to the forest last night?"  
  
Harry looked down. "I just felt like being alone and going for a walk. I needed to clear my head, but I guess I just got too close to the forest..."  
  
Remus nodded, then smiled gently. "It won't be so bad, Harry." Harry threw him a dark look. "Okay, maybe it will be, but it could be worse. You're here in Hogwarts, after all, and I was a werewolf my entire time here. Professor Snape can make you the Wolfsbane Potion every full moon and if he's unavailable you can go to the Shrieking Shack where at least you won't hurt anyone. You're strong, Harry. You'll get through this, I know you will."  
  
"I'm not as strong as you'd think," he said. "I've just been lucky. It seems my luck's finally worn out."  
  
Remus patted Harry on his good shoulder. "It'll take some time to accept it. I can't stay, but if you ever need to talk, you know how to contact me." Remus stood.  
  
"Remus, what if the Prophet gets wind of this? No parents will want a werewolf at school with their kids! They'll demand I be kicked out. They'll send me Howlers. They've done it before for the stupidest of things," Harry moaned.  
  
"Don't worry. Dumbledore is keeping this quiet. The school staff knows, but none of the students know. It's up to you who you want to tell, if anyone, and what you will tell them about tonight. I must go. Remember, Harry, if you ever need to talk..." He left it hanging as he gave Harry one last encouraging smile and left. Harry drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them, shivering. It was a small comfort that he could always go to Lupin if he needed to. A very small comfort.  
  
"Harry."  
  
Harry looked to the door to see Dumbledore standing there, his hands folded behind his back, and his face somber.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't know-"  
  
"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore said and held up a hand. "None of us knew. It was an accident. A very horrible accident, but an accident just the same. But there are some things you must come to understand about your new condition."  
  
Harry laughed bitterly. "My 'condition'? I'm a freak. A monster. A bloodthirsty killing machine."  
  
"Only during full moons." Dumbledore came closer to Harry, and stood at the foot of his bed. "The staff knows of this attack for the safety of both you and the students. But the students have no reason to know unless you deem they should. As long as you take the proper precautions, you will not be a danger to anybody. However, it is apparent that you were outside last night after curfew and were attacked, so I have let it be known that you have detention with Professor Snape tonight."  
  
Harry groaned. This day kept getting worse.  
  
"I'll leave you to sort this out, then, "Dumbledore said. "I am also available if you ever need someone to talk to, Harry."  
  
Harry didn't reply. He let Dumbledore leave and lay back on the bed and covered his head with the pillow. He hoped fervently that he would wake up soon and get this nightmare over with.  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	2. Not a Monster

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Doesn't mean I won't poke them with sticks for my own amusement, though. And the title belongs to Metallica's song.  
  
Notes: I'm glad that so many like my idea! Thank you for reviewing and keep them coming! It helps me to get off my butt and write in the little free time I have, instead of vegging on the couch.  
  
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Of Wolf and Man  
  
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Harry didn't go to his classes at all that day. He lay in the infirmary until lunch, when Dobby appeared with a tray of food. Harry picked at it while Dobby sat nearby, eager to do what he could for the injured Harry. Dobby obviously hadn't heard what had attacked Harry, but Harry didn't bother to tell him.  
  
After he forced down some food to satisfy the motherly house-elf, Madam Pomfrey came and shooed Dobby off. Dobby told Harry to call him if he needed anything, and Harry promised he would. Madam Pomfrey removed Harry's bandages and inspected the wounds. They had all healed, as she had predicted, and all that was left were a few pink scars that would fade with time. Free to leave, Harry trudged from the hospital wing with no clear goal in mind.  
  
He looked at the familiar scenes around him as he walked abjectly to Gryffindor Tower. Hogwarts was his home, as known to him as his own reflection. The portraits watched him pass and some waved merrily, which he ignored. How could everything be so different, and yet so the same?  
  
Harry was almost to the common room without having run into anyone when the school bell rang. Harry swore silently as students began to file into the corridor, heading to wherever they had to go. Harry tried to look inconsequential and invisible, but without his cloak (and he realized he had no idea what had happened to it) it was impossible. People paused as they saw him and whispered to others, rumors flew about what had happened to him.  
  
Neville and Dean appeared from the crowd, concern written on their faces.  
  
Harry cringed inwardly. They didn't know. Dumbledore was right. They didn't know and they wouldn't know unless he told them. And he should, for they had a right to know. But then they would fear him, and hate him.  
  
"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asked. "We heard about the attack!"  
  
"Yeah Harry, what happened? What attacked you?" Dean echoed.  
  
Harry fidgeted slightly. "I'm fine," he said softly, avoiding eye contact. "I... I was... that is..." What was he going to tell them? That he was attacked by a werewolf while out of bed after hours? That he was a werewolf now too? That every month he was going to transform into a raging beast bent on killing them all?  
  
"No," he said to himself.  
  
"What's that?" Neville asked, having not quite heard. Harry looked up at all the faces, crowding together, surrounding him, watching intently for news from their savior... a monster. Harry shook his head, turned, and bolted, shoving rudely past some people and fleeing desperately down the hall. Behind him he could hear the worried shouts of Neville and Dean.  
  
-You don't understand,- he thought desperately. -I can't tell you, I can't. I... I can't tell anyone.- Tears misted his eyes and he squeezed them shut to block out the emotions overwhelming him. Panic, despair, and a sudden loneliness he had not experienced for a long time.  
  
He wished Sirius was there. Sirius would understand, and he wouldn't hate him. After all, Remus had been one of Sirius' best friends for ages and Remus was also a werewolf.  
  
Harry rounded a corner still in mid-flight and ran headlong in a very solid something and bounced back off. He shook his head and righted his crooked glasses before looking up from his new position on the floor to see what he had hit. Above him a familiar scowl and pair of flashing black eyes glared down at him.  
  
"P-Professor Snape!" Harry gasped. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going..." Behind him, Harry noticed two figures coming up the hall. One had blazing red hair and the other had bushy brown.  
  
"Then perhaps you should pay more attention, Potter," Snape drawled in his most dangerous voice. "Come with me."  
  
Snape began to walk back the way Harry had come and the young Gryffindor scrambled to his feet and followed after, grateful for the excuse to avoid Ron and Hermione. He didn't want them to know, either. And he didn't think he'd be able to lie to them. He followed the black-robed figure as he swept through the corridors, students leaping aside for him to pass, and none called out to Harry.  
  
The teacher and the student slowly descended deeper into the recesses of the castle until Harry realized that they must be going to the dungeons, although he couldn't remember ever having come this way before. The air turned cold and biting, and Harry repressed a shiver. Why was Snape bringing him down here? He hadn't had very good experiences with werewolves before, after Lupin had almost killed him that one time, but did he hate all werewolves?  
  
"Honestly, Potter," Snape said suddenly. Harry jerked his head up, confused. "Do you have any idea how stupid it was of you to go traipsing through the grounds at night? The rules are there for a very good reason. But I guess you thought you were above that, didn't you?" Harry looked down at his feet, watching them carry him on. "Not so high and mighty now, are we Wolf Boy?"  
  
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He could feel a hatred surge up from his chest, and he glared at the greasy-haired man before him. Snape halted as well and turned back to face his pupil. Harry fairly shook with rage at the sneer Snape kept giving him.  
  
"What's wrong, Potter? Did I make you angry?"  
  
"Shut-up," Harry hissed. "Just shut-up."  
  
"Now, that isn't a very nice thing to say to me. After all, you and I are going to be spending a lot of 'quality time' together," he spat. "The Headmaster thinks it would be best for you to stay with me in my quarters during the three days of the full moon. Even with the Wolfsbane Potion, you will be in no condition to be around other people during that time." Snape looked less the pleased with the prospect of sharing his rooms with anyone, much less the Golden Boy.  
  
"There's no way I'm staying with you," Harry growled.  
  
"Alright then," Snape said in his silky smooth voice he used when the trap was about to close. "Go back to your dormitory. Go and sleep in your own warm bed. And when you wake up in the morning bathed in your little friends' blood, don't come to me."  
  
Harry swallowed hard. His rage slipped away, forgotten at the horror of the thought Snape had presented to him.  
  
If he didn't do as Snape said... He would most likely kill Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean all without a second thought. Only he wouldn't know he had done it, it would still be more blood on his hands. He shuddered. -Besides,- he thought to himself, -Dumbledore thought I should stay with Snape. He must have his reasons...-  
  
Harry nodded slowly, acknowledging this horrid fact. He didn't look up, but he knew Snape was smirking at him. And he wanted to bite him for it.  
  
-No! NO! I don't want to bite anybody!!- he cried mentally. -I'm not a monster!-  
  
"Then come on. Your cloak is in my office. You'll need it to slip out to the Whomping Willow tonight." He turned and began walking again. Harry scrambled to catch up, and fell back into step behind. "You're staying in the Shrieking Shack tonight, Potter. This is the last night of the full moon, so it's only for tonight. Next month I will start giving you the Wolfsbane potion. I would do it tonight, but it wouldn't do any good, as it needs to be taken a week in advance." Harry nodded dumbly and followed.  
  
He hadn't thought about tonight being another full moon. He hadn't thought about the actual transformation, which he remembered Lupin telling him that it was very painful. Harry wrapped his arms around himself, shaking more from fear and anxiety than the cold of the dungeons.  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	3. Moon Rage

Disclaimer: Go see chapt. 1.  
  
Notes: There is some major violence in this chapter. I tried to make this chapter longer than some of my others, and I think it is a little longer than usual. I have trouble writing anything longer than this, though. I'm working on it. Remember to review! Feedback is very very much welcome, and it helps me to write more.  
  
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Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The Shrieking Shack was rumored in Hogsmeade to be haunted by very violent and very loud ghosts and specters. They say it is possibly the most haunted building in the world. In fact, the is false. It is not haunted and never was, except maybe by very gruesome memories. It was simply used by a one Remus Lupin, werewolf extraordinaire, in times past to transform on full moons so that he would not be able to hurt anyone.  
  
Now, to continue that legacy, a new werewolf was occupying the broken down, boarded-up building, anxiously awaiting the moonrise. Harry Potter glanced out of the dusty window for the seventh time in five minutes, but the moon still was absent from the night sky. The only illumination was a light dusting of stars in the velvety blackness.  
  
Harry had broken out in a light sheen of cold sweat. He swallowed hard and sat on an ancient chair with its legs ripped off. He was afraid that he would faint if he kept standing.  
  
The air was chilly. Harry wasn't sure if he was cold or just nervous. He shook rather violently either way.  
  
Harry sat there and wondered what he was going to do about Ron and Hermione. How would he explain this to them? They wouldn't hate him, he knew that. They were like him in believing not all werewolves were bad, for they knew Professor Lupin as well. But they would feel sorry for him, maybe even pity him. Harry couldn't stand that. He didn't want to see the pure pity in their eyes every time he looked at them.  
  
He was so engrossed in these thoughts that he didn't notice the sliver of silvery light that peeked in through the bottom of the window. When he did finally register the extra illumination, he jumped away from it like it was fire.  
  
"No," Harry breathed. "No, I'm not ready..." The light spread further, and Harry scrambled on top of the chair, trying not to touch it. "I'm not ready!" Uncaring, the moon continued to rise and make its nightly arc across the sky. Harry leapt from the chair and ran into another room deeper in the house, a room without windows. He slammed the door shut on the light and leaned against it, breathing heavy.  
  
Then he doubled over in pain, his guts writhing in his stomach. The pain was incredible, like someone had shoved blazing hot pokers in his abdomen and twisted them. Harry grunted and fell to one knee.  
  
A tingling sensation washed over every inch of his skin, which soon turned into an itch. Harry looked down at his hands to see fur sprout in a wave over his body. Then the pain returned twofold and it spread to every limb. Harry winced and hugged himself fiercely, trying to will the hurt away, and he gritted his teeth to prevent the scream that was welling up inside from escaping. It was an uphill struggle, though, and he was losing ground.  
  
His spine lengthened and he watched with horrid fascination, through watering eyes, as his fingers shriveled and twisted and reconfigured themselves into paws with cat-like talons. Fire flamed across his face when his face sprouted out before his very eyes into a long muzzle filled with killing teeth.  
  
Harry tilted his head back and warbled out a strange, low moaning sound halfway between a scream and a howl.  
  
In a few minutes, the pain was gone, and he was not Harry. The new being pointed its nose to the sky and howled in fury and freedom. Elsewhere in Hogsmeade, mothers held their children close as the ghosts in the Shrieking Shack reawoke.  
  
He tested the air with his inhuman sense of smell. There was no prey here, no victims he could hunt down and attack. This enraged him. He wanted humans. Humans who were slow, weak, stupid, and delicious. He wanted to bite them, to sink his sharp fangs into their soft skin and taste the hot, sweet blood.  
  
He looked about the room that imprisoned him and paced its walls, searching for a way out, but he could find none. Huffing angrily, he paced back around, but there was nothing.  
  
He must get out! He wanted to hunt, and he was so hungry...  
  
The creature shrieked in fury and threw itself against the door, sensing that it had come through that way before, but it was now closed to it. He rebounded and leapt again, determined to be free. A third time and the rusted old hinges gave out and the door flew outward, crashing to the dusty floor with the beast on top.  
  
Soft moonlight flooding in through the window bathed the monster, and its eyes aglow with an otherworldly green in the luminescence. It sang to the moon briefly before setting off at a quick trot, searching for the hot- blooded creatures it knew was near.  
  
It ran from room to room, but it could find neither prey nor escape from the larger prison it realized it was in. The one before was but a trap within a greater trap, and he was inside while the humans were outside. He paused before the front door of the box and sniffed at the bottom of the portal. There was a draft of fresh air coming from the small crack, and with it, the enticing scent of fresh meat, there for the pickings.  
  
He scratched at the crack, but his claws barely grazed the hard wood floors, and it would take forever to get out that way. He snorted and threw himself against the door, for it had worked once before. But this one held fast, and no amount of abused would undo it.  
  
The creature screamed at the portal and slashed at it with insanely sharp claws, but it would not open. Desperately, it raced around the house again, searching, searching for another way. When he returned to the same place, he snarled and snapped and roared and raged, but the door would not open for him. He threw himself against it time and time again, the need to bite someone, kill something, was overwhelming.  
  
It was only after hours of violently attacking every window and door, that the beast turned to the only other thing to vent his rage upon.  
  
Himself.  
  
***  
  
Harry opened his eyes slowly. Garishly bright streamers of golden sunlight drifted into the room his lie in, and he moaned softly. He ached all over, and the night before was all a hazy blur of rage and bloodthirsty drive. He felt like one giant bruise, and he had the distinct, coppery taste of blood on his tongue. He spat in disgust and wiped at his mouth.  
  
Harry sat up and looked around. The room was in tatters. All of the furniture had been completely obliterated, and there were several deep gouges in the shape of claw marks on the walls. There were dark brown stains all over the place, and Harry realized that it was blood. In fact, the place reeked of it. He covered his nose and moaned again. Looking down, he saw that he was naked, his robes had ripped when he had transformed, and crisscrossing his body were scratches, gashes, scrapes, and deep bite marks, all half-healed already.  
  
His glasses were nowhere to be found, and the room had a blur to all its edges that gave Harry a headache.  
  
His head snapped to one side. He heard footsteps coming his way, and there was a faint whisper of robes rustling as one walked his way. One of the few surviving doors creaked open and Harry looked up to see a dark, forbidding- looking man with pale skin and dark hair and eyes looking down at him. He couldn't make out his expression.  
  
"I see you've had a busy night, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape noted. "At least the boards still held up after so many years of neglect. I was concerned that they would have rotted by now, but the headmaster seemed certain that they would serve one last time before we have them replaced." Harry tried to speak, but no words would come. He stared numbly up at his Professor. Snape threw something at him, and Harry caught them automatically. He realized that they were a fresh set of robes, and he hurriedly donned them, remembering his nude state.  
  
"Come on, Mr. Potter, we haven't got all day," Snape sighed. Harry tugged his sweater over his head and stood. Snape handed him his glasses and Harry put them on. Instantly everything came into focus, although Harry would have preferred not to see the gore-splattered walls in detail. He looked only at Snape, instead.  
  
"Let's go," the Potions Master said, turning on his heel. He led Harry back to the trap door in another room and they set back off for the Whomping Willow.  
  
Harry could not remember being this exhausted before. His legs were like lead, and his eyes felt gritty. It wasn't surprising, given that he hadn't had a good night's rest for three days. He stumbled a bit as they walked, Snape's wand lit to show them the way. Harry remembered vaguely that his had been left in Snape's office for safekeeping.  
  
"We should be just in time for breakfast," Snape said. "Afterwards you will return to your classes as usual, Potter."  
  
Classes... It felt so stupid compared to last night. He had just endured madness and hate so profound he might never be the same again, and he was expected to just go back to class like nothing had happened? It wasn't fair. And he would have said so, too. But he just didn't have the energy. Ahead, Snape glanced over his shoulder at the tired, weary boy walking on autopilot behind him, and some unreadable expression passed over his face.  
  
Then he faced forward again and continued on. Harry thought it rather odd, but dismissed it. He didn't care. He very much doubted that he would care even if Voldemort suddenly came back to life and started attacking all of Hogwarts.  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	4. A Wolf in Class

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing! Leave me alone! I own the concept of the story, that is all!  
  
Notes: Thanks for the reviews! Remember to keep them coming! Sorry it took me so long to update. (A long time to me is more than a few days... Which is good for those of you who like quick updates. ;P) And now to answer a question:  
  
-No one is with Harry in Animagus form when he transforms because none of his friends know, and they still don't know how to become an Animagus. That may change later, tho. ^.-  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Transfiguration was the first class of the day, and Harry was the last to arrive. McGonagall gave him a sharp look, and he scurried to his seat. Well, scurried as well as a pair of wooden legs and a numb brain would let him. He still felt very ill used, but breakfast had helped to wash away the taste of blood, for which he was very grateful. He was still the object of many looks and whispers, which he ignored. Or maybe he didn't even realize they were whispering.  
  
McGonagall let them alone to practice their new assignment, and Harry partnered with Ron as usual. Ron neglected the bit of rope they were supposed to transform into lizards to question Harry about what had occurred over the past couple of days.  
  
"Are you okay, Harry? You don't look so good," Ron remarked.  
  
"I don't know," Harry sighed. "Things have... changed..."  
  
Ron seemed confused. "Changed? What do you mean?"  
  
Harry shook his head wearily. "I'll tell you and Hermione about it later. Too many people here." He waved absently at the people watching Harry intently and Ron nodded in understanding. He waved his wand at the half foot of rope, but he was distracted, and it merely sprouted legs and started to amble about blindly. He frowned and tried again, but two more legs grew and it scampered off the table.  
  
Harry didn't even bother to try and let Ron run about trying to catch his six-legged rope until the class ended and he trudged out.  
  
The next class was Potions with Snape. Harry really didn't feel up to it. He wanted nothing more than to go up to the dorms and sleep. Ron walked beside him, watching his friend more than the hallway, hand halfway extended to catch him if he fell, which he seemed very likely to do. Hermione caught up to them a moment later from a discussion she'd been holding with McGonagall about an essay they'd been assigned for homework. Apparently she needed about twice the length of the other students to cover everything.  
  
"Harry, are you sure you're up for class? What were you doing last night?" she asked worriedly. Harry waved a hand at her, indicating she should drop it. Hermione bit her lip, but remained silent.  
  
"Oi, Harry. Maybe you should go lie down. Take a nap," Ron suggested.  
  
"Harry can't just ditch class, Ron! You're a prefect, so why don't you start acting like one?" Hermione snapped back.  
  
"Look at him, 'Mione! He's dead on his feet. What good would it do him to go to class and blow himself up if he messes up the assignment because he's too tired?" Ron argued back, gesturing angrily at Harry. Hermione's brow furrowed in thought.  
  
"That is a good point..." Hermione said.  
  
"Go on, Harry," Ron said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Go on up to the dorm and rest for a bit. We'll cover for you with Snape," Ron said. Harry nodded dumbly, too tired to care, and plodded past the others on their way to the dungeons.  
  
He was in the common room before he knew it and then found himself in the room he shared with Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. He had no idea how he got there, but he shrugged it off. In a second he had discarded his robes and shoes and crawled into the large, four-poster bed. Nothing had ever felt so good before, so utterly divine to his aching body. In seconds he was snoring softly as he slept.  
  
***  
  
In his dream Harry was walking down a dark path in a close and tangled forest with a full moon high overhead. He walked forward, knowing that something awaited him at the end of the path, something grand and wonderful. Something he had always wanted. But the path just wore on, never ending, never turning, always straight and black and choked with trees reaching for him. He caught a glance of something ahead and hurried forward.  
  
It slowly grew larger and more distinct. And only once it was right before him did Harry recognize what it was.  
  
Snarling, the massive, black-furred werewolf turned and lunged for him, emerald eyes flashing in the moonlight. Harry fell back, the teeth sinking into his neck....  
  
He woke up with a yell, sitting upright in his bed. He was shivering and sweaty, and he rubbed at his shoulder, where the werewolf had bitten him two days ago. It was dark in the room, and soft light from the waning moon fell in through the window. Harry pushed himself to his feet and crossed to the window. He had slept longer than he'd meant to. With a jerk, he shut the curtains, blocking out the moon.  
  
The door burst open and Ron ran in. "Harry? You alright?" he gasped, looking about like he'd had a heart attack.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry replied. "Just a bad dream."  
  
"It wasn't.... one of THOSE dreams.....?"  
  
"No. Just a regular nightmare," Harry replied. Ron sighed in relief. "Anyway, I feel much better now. I hope I didn't miss too much..."  
  
Ron shook his head. "Nah. Not that much. I'm sure 'Mione will let you copy her notes in the classes you missed. She knows you've been through a lot and needed the sleep. By the way, are you up to telling us what happened?"  
  
Harry looked down at the floor. He might as well get it over with. At least no one else was up for bed yet. "Sure. Go get her." Ron left and Harry found his wand and lit some candles. He was sitting on his bed, lost in his own dark thoughts when his friends entered and shut the door behind them. Harry looked up as they Ron pulled up two chairs and they sat.  
  
"Feeling better, Harry?" Hermione inquired. Harry nodded with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.  
  
"So what's going on, mate?" Ron asked. "What did attack you, and where were you last night?"  
  
"I was at the Shrieking Shack," Harry stated.  
  
Ron looked confused. "The Shrieking Shack? But why?"  
  
"Because it was too dangerous for me to be somewhere with people," he replied flatly, looking away. He couldn't bear to see they're faces when they put it together. "Because I might have killed someone otherwise."  
  
"But you'd never kill anyone, Harry."  
  
"Oh Ron! Don't you get it?!" Hermione explained. Harry felt a light touch on his arm and looked over, into Hermione's eyes, which were misting over with tears. "Harry... That night you were attacked... It was a werewolf, wasn't it?" Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. Of course Hermione would figure it out. She'd figured out Lupin those years ago. "You were bitten."  
  
The raven-haired Gryffindor nodded, unable to speak. He didn't want to cry, but he didn't think he'd be able to hold it in if he spoke. Instead, he tugged at the collar of his pajamas to show the pale pink scar on his shoulder.  
  
Hermione gasped, raising her hand to her mouth. Still in shock, Ron was silent.  
  
Then he found his voice again and tried to smile reassuringly at his best friend of seven years. "But it's okay, isn't it Harry? I mean, as long as you take the Wolfsbane every month you should be safe. And Professor Lupin is a werewolf, too... You'll be alright..."  
  
Harry shook his head. "It's more complicated than that, Ron. I mean, what if people find out? Werewolves are feared and discriminated against. They can't hardly get a job. When parents found out Lupin was a werewolf they demanded he be fired, and besides, every time of a full moon, Dumbledore is making me stay with Snape. He says I might still find it difficult around that time, Wolfsbane or not. I guess Snape id supposed to protect everyone from me if I freak out or something." Harry sighed, feeling tired all over again. "It hurts to transform... It feels like your bones are too large for the rest of you and your insides are trying to move all on their own... And when you're a werewolf, you feel this... this hatred... This fury and you want to kill and attack people and-" He stopped himself. "I hate it."  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry and let her tears course down her face in silence. She held Harry tightly, and Harry wished he could cry too, but now his tears seemed to have gone away.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry," she murmured. "I'm so so sorry..."  
  
~*~*~*~ 


	5. Full Moon Next

Disclaimer: Wah! I don't own Harry Potter? ... Or DO I?! Mwahahahahaha!  
  
Harry: No, you don't.  
  
PF4: DAMNIT!  
  
Notes: All my love to my faithful reviewers! I wuv oo! *hugs* As requested, I'm bringing Lupin back to go for a run with Harry on the next full moon, and with any luck I can make Harry and Snape start to get along and see how much they really do like each other. *Whips out her character-poking stick and laughs maniacally.*  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The month rolled by all too quickly for Harry's liking. He immersed himself in his schoolwork and took comfort in his friends and for a while he forgot about his night of horror. But every time he undressed and saw the scars... Or at night when he would again be on that path through the woods only to be attacked by the wolf again and again.... He was again reminded of his fate, and his spirits would plummet.  
  
Harry was startled when Snape told him to stay after class one week, but did not question him. The rest of the class filed out and Ron and Hermione gave him reassuring smiles.  
  
Harry approached Snape's desk. "You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
Snape's black eyes glanced at him once. He waved his wand at a nearby cabinet and the doors flew open. Inside was a goblet with contents that smoked faintly. Harry recognized it at once for what it was. "Drink all of it, Potter. I'll have more for you tomorrow." Harry took the goblet a little uncertainly and sniffed of it cautiously.  
  
His wolf-heightened senses rebelled immediately. It was awful! He looked back at Snape to see if he was serious about this.  
  
Snape wasn't smiling. "Go on, Potter. Unless you want to spend the three nights of full moon howling and clawing yourself to shreds." Harry swallowed hard. The potion was far from appealing, but the aspect of another night of madness was even less so. He pinched his nose shut and brought the goblet to his lips.  
  
In one motion he tilted his head back and swigged as much of the smoking concoction as he could at once. And almost choked.  
  
It was bitter and slightly sour at the same time, not mention being rather thick and unduly warm. He managed to down about half before he had to take a breath and retch. "Try not to throw it back up, or I shall half to make some more for you. We will keep making more until some of it stays down," Snape said. Harry gritted his teeth together and forced his stomach to behave. Closing off his nose again, he downed the rest and put the goblet down rather hard on the shelf it had come from.  
  
"Come back tomorrow at the same time. And every day this week," Snape ordered. Harry nodded once, grabbed his stuff, and left. He found Ron and Hermione waiting for him outside. He wiped his mouth and grimaced.  
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"Fine," Harry said shortly. "Let's just go to lunch so I can get the taste of that Wolfsbane out of my mouth."  
  
***  
  
Saturday night was the first night of the full moon. After dinner, Harry transfigured a spare blanket into a poor, but serviceable, canvas bag and packed it with three nights worth of clothes. When he was through he trucked down to the common room, where Ron and Hermione saw him off in private, the rest of the students having not yet returned from their meal. He left the tower by himself, heading down to Snape's office, where he would wait for the head of Slytherin to show him to his private apartments. After the three nights that he was dangerous, he would go back to his rooms and forget all about this for another month.  
  
-It just has to be Snape,- Harry thought to himself bitterly.  
  
"Harry," a voice hissed. Harry whirled about, whipping out his wand instinctively. It was these very reflexes that saved him from Voldemort during that last battle...  
  
But that was over with.  
  
A figure stepped out of a hidden niche in the wall Harry hadn't noticed before, hands held up passively. Harry slowly lowered his wand as he recognized the person.  
  
"Professor Lupin, what are you doing here? And why were you hiding?"  
  
"I didn't think it'd be a good idea if any of the students saw me, considering most still don't think highly of werewolves, even after knowing me for almost a year..." Lupin shrugged, dropping his hands to his sides and examined Harry with a practiced eye. "How are you doing, Harry? Are you holding up okay?"  
  
"Yeah... I'm fine," Harry lied. "Are you here on Order business? Catch any remaining Death Eaters?"  
  
"No, still working on that," Lupin said with a grin. "I came for you. I needed to make sure Snape was going to treat you alright. He doesn't like werewolves much, my fault I'm afraid. After that trick Sirius played in school... And well, you know Snape." Harry nodded. Yes, he knew Snape alright. "Anyway, I'm staying in Hogsmeade and heading back to London tomorrow. I thought you might want to go for a run tonight..."  
  
Harry considered that. Go running with Lupin as werewolves? After Sirius died, Lupin had offered to become Harry's legal guardian, and Harry accepted. He had never become as close to him as he had with Sirius, but he still liked and respected Lupin.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Great. Come out to the lake around midnight and I'll meet you there. Now, I really should be going before someone sees me..."  
  
"Wait... Won't that be dangerous? Us running around loose on a full moon?"  
  
"Have you been taking your Wolfsbane?"  
  
Harry nodded, face screwing up as he remembered the foul brew. Lupin smiled. "Then it's no problem. You'll still transform on the moonrise, but your mind will be your own. It'll be fine. See you later, Harry." Remus Lupin set off down the hallway. Harry watched him go until he turned a corner and couldn't see him anymore.  
  
"Mr. Potter, did you get lost?" a cold voice drawled behind him. Harry winced and turned to see Snape standing behind him, looking rather irritated.  
  
"N-no sir..."  
  
"Then what were you doing?"  
  
"Nothing, sir," Harry replied. He waited for Snape to make the next move. The professor frowned, then turned and walked off. Harry followed.  
  
It was surprisingly short distance to Snape's quarters, which were hidden behind a portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Snape muttered a password ("Castellani.") and it swung open to reveal an ebony door bound in silver. Snape waved his wand and Harry could hear it 'click' as it unlocked and opened inward. Snape let Harry enter first, and followed soon after, closing the door and portrait behind him.  
  
Harry looked around, mouth slightly open in amazement.  
  
Snape's quarters were very nice. The furniture was plush and black leather. The walls were Slytherin green and silver, and there was a variety of bookshelves in many locations. Some actually held books. Others held potions equipment and supplies. One had a few things in jars like in his office, and one had a range of strange contraptions Harry couldn't begin to guess at.  
  
Snape gestured to the couch. "You'll be sleeping there. The bathroom is there," he pointed to another ebony door, "and that is my bedroom. You do not ever go in there under any circumstances." Harry looked at the door and nodded. He had no desire to go in there.  
  
He set his bag down by the couch and sat. He rummaged around in his bag and brought out a book, parchment, quill, and ink. He began doing an essay for Transfiguration.  
  
Snape ignored his presence and went to his bedroom.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Ne... short chapter. Me sorry. But I felt it best to cut off there. Next chapter will have Harry and Lupin running around as werewolves. 


	6. Running With Remus

Disclaimer: I own nuthing but plot. Isn't life unfair?  
  
Notes: Whee! Werewolf fun! As always, review please! I like reviews. It makes for a happy authoress... (?) I'm not sure if Harry could really use the Floo system as a werewolf, but I don't see why not. He does talk very clearly, just in wolfish tongue.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Harry sat in Snape's cheerless apartments, homework done with footnotes and cross-referenced, and stared down at his hands, elbows on knees. The moon would be rising any moment now, and Snape had emerged from his seclusion in his bedchamber to wait with him. The potions master was reading a thick, leather-bound volume, ignoring the young werewolf before him. It was just as well. Harry didn't want to talk. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to be in full lycanthrope form but still aware of who he was and able to control himself.  
  
Harry didn't have to ask the time. When the moon crested the horizon outside of the castle, he knew. It was like a whisper inside his head, an intuition that made him turn to the east as if he could see through walls.  
  
Then the change began, and the all-too expected pain.  
  
Whatever properties the Wolfsbane held, it did not stop the incredible pain of the transformation. Harry clutched at his guts, eyes watering. It seemed to be happening quicker this time. The fur rolled over his skin at the same time his hands arched into wicked claws and he could feel his teeth grow sharper. Within moments of white-hot agony, he opened his eyes and discovered that he was on the floor, and his glasses had been thrown a foot or so away. Snape was kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder.  
  
Was that concern in his eyes?  
  
"Potter, do you understand me?" Harry nodded his elongated head. "Good. Then the Wolfsbane worked as it should. I wasn't quite certain of the dosage for your body size." He nodded to himself and stood.  
  
Oh. He was just concerned about the Wolfsbane working. Understandable and perfectly Snape-like, but...  
  
He shook his head. He didn't want Snape to be concerned for him any more than he wanted Fred and George to be his personal chefs. Harry pulled himself to his feet, er, paws, and took stock of himself. His robes and clothes were once again in shreds, but his glasses and wand were in good shape, and he seemed fine. In fact, his vision was sharp and clear, if a little lacking in the color department, and attracted to motion.  
  
His emerald eyes followed Snape as he bent and picked up Harry's glasses and wand, setting them safely on the mantle.  
  
"These will be safe, but we're going to have to come up with a solution for the state of your clothing after you transform. I hardly want to see you naked every month," Snape said, watching Harry as he examined his surroundings in wolf form. Harry was small for a werewolf, but that was still larger than normal wolves, and had shaggy black fur and eerie green eyes. Just barely perceptible was the jagged scar on his forehead.  
  
Harry sniffed the air. He could smell everything! The cotton stuffing of the sofa, the tanned leather covering it, the soap the house elves used to wash Snape's robes with, and the man himself smelled heavily of potions ingredients. His ears perked forward, catching the faint sound of Snape's heart and pulse.  
  
Under it all there was still the beast. Harry could feel it, lying dormant, craving the blood of humans and the hunt. But the Gryffindor could control it, and almost ignore it, thanks to the foul concoction of Wolfsbane.  
  
"I suggest you get some sleep, Potter. I am. Do not try to leave the apartments, as the door is locked." Without further comment, Snape retreated back to his lair, leaving Harry to watch the dying fire.  
  
***  
  
Harry guessed it was about half after eleven when he started trying to find a way out of the room. He scratched at the door, but it wouldn't open. He tried to open the door via the knob, but he didn't have the dexterity. He cast about helplessly, hoping for some mystic source of inspiration. He caught a glance of an urn by the fireplace and reared onto his hind legs to sniff it.  
  
He sneezed a silvery powder all over the mantle and his face. His tail wagged in delight. Floo powder! But would he be able to communicate well enough to use it?  
  
-It's worth a try. I'll sneak a peek into the Gryffindor common room. It can get out from there.- He placed a steadying paw on the bricks and stood up, looking down at the urn mounted to the fireplace. He flicked some out with his paw, putting a small amount on the floor. He leaned down and sniffed it again, sneezing the powder into the fire this time. The flames burned green and Harry attempted to say 'Gryffindor common room'.  
  
It came out as a bark and a whine, but the flames remained green, so he poked his head into the fire and felt the familiar spinning sensation.  
  
*  
  
Ron nearly had a heart attack when he saw the head of a very big, very mean- looking wolf appear in the fire beside him. He scooted backwards until he bumped into a sofa when the wolf head bared its teeth at him. His eyes flickered to its forehead and saw a small patch of white fur shaped like a lightning bolt.  
  
"H-Harry?" Ron squeaked. The wolf head whined happily. He wasn't snarling at Ron, he was grinning. It wasn't a very friendly-looking grin.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Harry?!" Ron hissed, crawling up to the edge of the fireplace, glaring at the Werewolf-Who-Lived. "What if someone else had been in here?!" The wolf looked around and, seeing no one else with Ron, walked out of the fire. Ron moved aside to give him room. Harry's tail wagged in a very doggish manner, and he sniffed Ron emphatically.  
  
"Gerroff," Ron said, shoving Harry back, but his tone wasn't harsh. He stood up and looked at his friend. "Well, what are you doing here? Just feel like scaring the living daylights out of me?" Harry whined and trotted over to the portrait hole. He turned back to Ron and raised a paw, like waving farewell.  
  
Then he left the dormitory and slunk off into the school. Ron shook his head. "He's nutters. Completely mad. Honestly..."  
  
*  
  
Harry bounded across the cool grass of Hogwart's grounds, feeling more free than he ever had in his life. His werewolf body was fast and strong. The cold air felt good rippling through his fur and the ground was firm and steady beneath his paws. From all corners came wonderful scents and smells and sounds that were so new to him. He let his tongue loll out of the side of his mouth as he ran towards the lake glistening ahead.  
  
The moon was clear and bright overhead, illuminating everything to Harry's sensitive eyes. He reached the shore of the lake and began to trot around it, looking for Lupin.  
  
He had moved about a quarter of a mile around the perimeter when another large wolf stepped out from behind a bush. Harry wagged his tail, approaching slowly. The other wolf's tail wagged, and Harry recognized it as another werewolf. It was a young male, though it's light brown fur was graying around the muzzle and tail. Harry whined and Lupin whined back, tail wagging once. Harry sprung up and tackled Lupin, then ran off towards the Dark Forest. He could hear Lupin close on his heels.  
  
***  
  
Snape entered his living room the next morning, finding Harry curled up on the couch, a spare blanket clutched to his lithe form. He snored contentedly, completely unaware that anything had changed. Snape nodded to himself and turned to the door to head to breakfast. He noticed something from the corner of his eye and went over to examine it.  
  
-That's odd,- he thought to himself. -How did the Floo powder spill onto the floor?-  
  
Snape finally just shook his head and left.  
  
When the door closed, Harry propped himself up on his elbow and checked to make sure Snape was really gone. He grinned and lay back down, slipping into sleep.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Harry's a cute li'l werewolf when he takes his Wolfsbane. 


	7. Sucky Chapter

Disclaimer: Oh, just leave me alone already.  
  
Notes: After that happy little interlude, we re-enter an angst zone again with rocky confrontations ahead. Wheeee! Review!  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The door slammed shut. Harry looked up from where he sat on Snape's leather sofa, finishing off the breakfast Dobby had brought him. The older man's eyes glittered dangerously. Harry blinked innocently up at him, big green eyes clear.  
  
"There's talk of a wolf in the school last night," Snape said evenly. But his eyes were clearly shouting in fury. Harry's breath skipped.  
  
"A wolf?"  
  
"Indeed." Snape glided across the room, robes doing that freaky billowing thing they did so well. Harry swallowed and slowly put the tray down. "Now, I must ask myself... Why would a wolf be in the school last night? After all, no native wolves live near here, and unless the renegade werewolf that bit you was coming back to finish the job... which I doubt since I'm not that lucky... I wonder who it could be."  
  
"I don't know," Harry lied, rather poorly.  
  
Snape strode over to Harry and slammed his hands down on the dark ebony coffee table. Harry winced. "Don't lie boy! I know it was you! It couldn't have been Lupin, though I wouldn't put it past him, because witnesses say it was black with burning green eyes! How many other black-furred, green- eyed werewolves are living in the school?!"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, but he couldn't think of anything convincing. All the arguments he could think of sounded stupid.  
  
"What did you think you were doing, Potter?! Gallivanting around the school like that! What if you set off a panic?! Do you want everyone to find out you're a werewolf? A monster? A freak?! Parents would demand you be thrown out at once! And where would you go? I doubt your Muggle family would take you back! There are even some who would kill a werewolf on sight!" Snape fell silent, breathing heavily.  
  
Harry stared at his hands.  
  
"But..." he said softly. "But I wasn't a danger... I was fine with the Wolfsbane..."  
  
Snape reared back to his full height again, looming over the scrawny boy. "That doesn't matter, you stupid boy!" He shook his head. "You really think you're invincible, don't you? Every year that you've been here you've done stupid, reckless things despite the rules set on you. But the famous Harry Potter is above rules. Even if they are there for his own safety."  
  
Harry turned away. He hadn't even considered the threat to himself. Apparently he was the only one who hadn't. Even Ron had thought of it.  
  
"I..."  
  
"Tonight I'm warding the entire apartments," Snape growled. "If you so much as move a hair out of the boundaries of my rooms, I'll know the second it happens."  
  
Harry nodded numbly.  
  
Snape whirled around and left again, muttering to himself. Harry sighed and slumped on the couch, lost in his own miserable thoughts. Snape was right. He hated to admit it, but he was. There were many people who would consider him a monster and a freak if they ever found out that he was a werewolf now. And there were many more who would demand he be kicked out. So many would hate him, and it wasn't even his fault!  
  
Maybe he should go ahead and tell everyone the truth. Then he could skip this horrible hiding and skulking about during the full moons.  
  
Harry gathered his knees close to him and hugged them tightly. What should he do?  
  
Dumbledore. Harry would go talk to Dumbledore. Surely the wise old headmaster would be able to advise Harry on the best course of action. Harry stood and hurried to the door of Snape's quarters. With a quick glance up and down the hallway outside to assure that he could find his way back if needed, he hurried off through the dungeons.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Gah! It's so short! Sorry! But I've been having trouble writing... A little writer's block. So I figured I'd scrape together something and post it for now. Leave me a nice long review and maybe I'll be able to get my inspiration back. 


	8. Chat with Dumbledore

Disclaimer: I don't anything. If I did, my life would be much better and I wouldn't be making minimum wage. P  
  
AN: Hey! I wrote! Isn't everyone just so proud of me? Sorry for the long wait, but between the end of the semester, work, and family things, plus a little writer's block, I had a full schedule.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Of Wolf and Man  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Come in, Harry."  
  
How -did- he do that? Werewolves had excellent senses, but Dumbledore couldn't possibly be a werewolf. Harry would have sensed it. Nevertheless, the boy opened the door and stepped into the familiar office of the headmaster. As usual, he sat behind his desk, the portraits of past headmasters and mistresses absently snoozing away in their frames while odd objects and gizmos whirled and clicked in their places on the shelves. The headmaster sat with his fingers steepled before his face, bearing a contemplative look on him.  
  
"I'm sorry if I disturbed you sir..."  
  
"No no, not at all," Dumbledore replied, smiling kindly at Harry. "You're welcome here anytime. Please, have a seat." Harry sat, but couldn't prevent himself from fidgeting nervously. Dumbledore gestured to a small crystal dish filled with plastic-wrapped sweets. Harry shook his head, but the old wizard merely shrugged and helped himself to one. "Now, what can I help you with, Harry?"  
  
"Well sir, it's about... It's about my... problem..." Ee gads he sounded so pathetic, even to his own ears. He briefly wished he hadn't bothered to come here, but here he was and he couldn't back out now. Besides, he honestly needed some of the elderly headmaster's sage wisdom and advice about now. "I was wondering... if I should just go ahead and tell everyone. I don't like this sneaking around behind everyone's back. I don't like keeping it a secret, and besides, I think that they deserve to know the truth."  
  
"Really now? Is it what you want to do?"  
  
"Well, no. I don't really want to kicked out of school. I don't want to loose all of my friends, and have everyone hate me." He wiped at his face in frustration, a small, animal growl issuing forth before he could stop it. He was angry and upset and the wolf was agitated. It wanted to go outside and run free through the forest, where none of this would matter.  
  
"Not everyone would hate you Harry. But there would be considerable upset."  
  
"It's not fair!"  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
"I didn't want to become a werewolf!"  
  
"I know you didn't."  
  
"This is all the fault of that werewolf from Hogsmeade!" he snapped, suddenly feeling furious at whoever that was. He wanted to... to.. -No! I am not a killer!!- "Dumbledore... sir... please.. what should I do? Isn't there any possible way to cure being a werewolf? Anything at all? I can't stand much more of it."  
  
"I'm afraid not, Harry. There is nothing we can do. Nothing anyone can do, short of the Dark Arts, and that is simply not an option, even in the blackest of times. I cannot tell you what to do, Harry, for it is your life, and you are nearly an adult now. As much as I love you and as much as I wish I could make it better for you, I cannot. There is nothing you can do to overcome the curse, except to do as Professor Lupin did and find a way to cope with it. Might I suggest you take this up with him?" He folded his arms on the desk wearily, his usually merry blue eyes now serious and without a hint of their usual twinkle. Harry felt despair rise within him.  
  
And with despair came the wolf, and it thought Dumbledore looked positively delicious. Harry beat it aside, and it stalked back to the shadows of his being to wait for another moment. Dumbledore must have noticed this momentary dominance struggle and frowned at the student before him. Worry lines creased his ancient forehead.  
  
"Harry, you should go back to Snape's quarters now. I want you to stay there until you feel well enough to continue with your studies, and don't leave no matter what. I will call Lupin to come talk with you, and you may decide for you what is best," he instructed.  
  
Harry looked horrified. "Snape's quarters?! No! Please... Can't I stay somewhere else? With anyone else! I don't care if I have to stay alone in the Shrieking Shack for a month! I hate Snape! I hate him! He's absolutely vile and-"  
  
"Professor Snape, Harry."  
  
"-and he doesn't care what happens to me at all! I think he wants me to go out and attack someone so I can be locked up-"  
  
"That's not true, Harry..."  
  
"-and he can gloat and brag about how I wasn't so great after all! How the Boy-Who-Lived is now the Boy-Who-Is-A-Freak!" Harry was breathing hard, and clutching at the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles were turning white. Dumbledore waited patiently and calmly until he was sure Harry was done.  
  
"I know you and Professor Snape have had your differences, Harry, but he really is the best one suited to protect you during the full moon. It is hard, I know. But whenever you get frustrated you can always come up here to me to talk again. Now return to Professor Snape's quarters and stay there. That is an order, Harry." The look in those icy blue orbs behind half moon spectacles brooked no nonsense, and Harry reluctantly nodded acquiescence. He stood up with a word and strode fluidly from the headmaster's office.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore stroked Fawkes absently in his musings. For that moment... just that one moment... Harry's normally emerald green eyes had changed. For a heartbeat it was not the gentle, amazingly gifted boy who looked out at the old wizard, but a feral beast with fierce, golden eyes that was filled with hunger and rage at being caged. Dumbledore shook his head and sighed softly. Fawkes crooned soothingly at him, but the phoenix could not ease his misgivings over what the future may contain for a boy that had been sorely tried numerous times before.  
  
Something strange was happening to Harry, and it wasn't a good thing. The only thing Dumbledore could do was wonder what he was going to do to try and help Harry fight it.  
  
***  
  
-What a waste. What a complete and utter waste. Fine. If Dumbeldore isn't going to help me, I'll go to someone who will!- Harry thought viciously. He turned a corner and then another and slipped through the library door as it swung closed behind some exiting Ravenclaws. He did not have his Invisibility Cloak with him, but he stuck to the background and made it to the back of one of the aisles without attracting any attention.  
  
Had he been in his right state of mind, he would have wondered at this. Stealth has never been a big strong point for him.  
  
He found them right where he thought he would. One buried in a mountain of dusty old tomes worn with use, the other with one or two books before him, looking bored. Harry slipped into the seat beside Ron without a sound. "I need your help."  
  
"WAH!" Ron cried, almost falling out of his chair. "When in bloody blazes did you get here, 'arry?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"  
  
Hermione blinked over at Harry owlishly from behind her book. "What's the matter, Harry? Are you feeling well? You look flushed..."  
  
"I'm fine, " he snapped impatiently. "I need your help. I can't stay long, I have to go back to Snape's quarters before anyone notices I'm missing." He waited while they nodded their understanding. "Good. I need you two to look something up for me. I don't know how much you'll find, if you'll find anything at all, and it may well be hidden in the Restricted Section. You can borrow my cloak." He paused for a moment, before continuing on.  
  
"I need you to look up any possible way to cure lycanthropy."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Review and make me a happy author everyone! 


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